Authors note: Hi everybody. Sorry for the delay, it's been a busy week! Hope you enjoy the chapter. Reviews are always very much appreciated xx

Only Shadow Ahead

Chapter Twenty-Six

"Take a look at it," she says, hunched over the laptop perched precariously on her lap. The green script continues to run down the monitor, illuminating the soft features of the woman sitting in front of it. "It is complex, yet so simple in nature. Do you see the way the coding ebbs and flows?"

"Nope. No idea." Gi scratches her nose, squinting at the laptop from her position on the queen-sized bed. "Looks like a bunch of random letters to me," she mutters, crossing her legs underneath her.

"As much as I hate Blight, I cannot deny the brilliance of her programming."

"Uh huh," Gi replies. "Yep, she's somethin' alright."

The rain is pouring down outside of their hotel room window; wind lashing the glass and causing rivulets of water to track down the translucent surface.

"Nyet." Linka shakes her head. She passes her finger down the screen, her lips slightly parted. Her hair is still sleep tousled and an imprint of the seam of her pillowcase runs down her left cheek. "In a way, I cannot help but admire her. The source code is a work of art."

Linka leans back, spinning herself around on the swivel chair. Thoughtful now. Reflective. She uses her legs to propel herself towards Gi, stopping just shy of the ensemble mattress they had shared overnight.

"Wish this stupid file wasn't giving us such a headache," Gi mutters, glaring out into the rain. "I'm over cleanin' up the damage it's causing."

"It will only get worse, Gi. It keeps changing. It adapts."

"How do you mean?"

"It latches itself onto software. Embeds itself onto servers and it evolves. Builds upon the files. The way it … what is the word?" Linka sighs, frustrated. "Manipulates. The way it manipulates existing programs is frightening."

"Hmm." Gi pulls on a sweatshirt and runs a comb through her hair. She stands wearily, pulling her jeans on before reaching for her boots. They have another full day ahead of them and the weather outside is not encouraging. "Stupid Blight."

Gi looks exhausted — dark shadows are present under her eyes. Linka has the beginnings of a cold. Her eyes are watering as she coughs quietly into her handkerchief.

"Ugh," she sniffs. "I do not have time to be sick."

"We don't have time for anything, anymore," Gi replies — a tinge of bitterness to her voice. "Did you call back that government guy, Lin?"

"Nyet. I have not had the time," she answers.

The message had arrived courtesy of a stern, authoritative voice from a perfectly plain-sounding government agency. Some cautious digging online and Linka had quickly discovered links with the CIA. The message had come out of the blue and she had been unsettled by the implications, to say the least.

"What did the message say?"

"Something about wanting to meet with me." Linka dresses quickly, pulling a beanie over her wavy locks and applying a layer of lip gloss. "A matter of security, or urgency or something…"

"What do you think they want?"

Linka shrugs, eyeing the laptop warily. "I have my suspicions."

"Probably forgot where they left their floppy disc," Gi mutters, and Linka smiles, shoving her friend playfully.

"Da," she says, but her mind has been working overtime since the voice message first appeared on her phone. She sneezes twice into her cupped hands, then folds them neatly within her lap. She feels a headache coming on. "I am looking forward to a home cooked meal sometime soon."

"Hmph." Gi scrunches up her nose. "Roast dinner. Vegetables. Maybe next year."

A knock at the door startles them. Gi jumps up and opens the door, and Ma-Ti is hovering in the hallway. Gi ushers him inside and Linka senses that he is as weary as they are. She gives him a half-wave as she grabs her jacket.

"Hey there," Ma-Ti says, his tone a little more chirpier than the girls. "We're heading down to eat. You coming?"

"Yeah. We're ready," Gi answers. The girls grab the room key and their purses, following Ma-Ti into the corridor.

The trio chat on the way to the elevator, their voices bouncing around the narrow corridor. Linka folds her arms, staring blankly at the numbers climbing upwards on the electronic display. She leans against the wall, feeling overwhelmed about the day ahead. She smiles though as she hears a familiar Brooklyn drawl approaching.

"Damn, I'm starvin'." He halts behind her — close enough that she can feel his body heat. He rubs his hands together and Linka isn't sure whether it's because of the cold or in anticipation of food. She assumes the latter. "Hope they have a decent hot breakfast."

"You may be in for disappointment, Yankee," Linka says, throwing a smirk over her shoulder. "I am sure the receptionist only mentioned continental breakfasts."

"Aw, shit." Wheeler groans, disappointed beyond words. "Seriously? We've lived on power bars and gatorade for the last month. I need a bacon fix."

"Pray to the bacon Gods, Wheeler," Gi suggests. "You never know."

"I'll build a freakin' shrine to Miss Piggy if it gets me a few rashers." The doors ping and they file inside. "Eggs. Sausages. Tomato."

"You whine like a mule, Wheeler," Linka says quietly, and he retaliates with lightning speed — gripping the bottom of her beanie. He pulls it down over her eyes and nose, holding on tightly as she huffs, trying to squirm out of his reach.

"You were sayin'?"

"Get off me, Wheeler!" she squeals, circling blindly and inadvertently bumping into what she assumes is Kwame's large frame. Kwame grumbles under his breath, stepping away from the melee. She struggles, alternating between trying to prize Wheeler's fingers away and elbowing whatever body part she comes into contact with.

The doors open. He releases her and she stumbles out into the foyer, disorientated and breathing heavily. He strides past, eyebrows raised and she places a well-aimed kick to his rear for good measure.

Linka rolls her eyes but she is flushed and grinning nonetheless — her mood significantly lifted. She falls into step beside Gi as they enter the dining room. Taking their seats, she glances towards the buffet table and the line of people already piling food onto their plates.

"Ooh," Wheeler exclaims happily, not even bothering to claim a chair. He makes a beeline for the food without waiting for the others, a significant spring in his step.

There was bacon after all.

Argos Bleak stared at the over-crowded common room — propped against the wall; legs drawn up to his chest and elbows resting casually over his knees.

He was craving caffeine. A heavy coffee drinker, it was not unheard of for Bleak to consume seven to eight cups per day. The coffee kept him sharp. On edge and alert, ready for whatever dumb plan his boss had him administering for the day.

But now, stuck in this rabbit warren with a bunch of over-achieving, jumpy little up-starts… he would have been willing to kill for even a whiff of coffee beans.

He sneered as a giggling trio of girls passed in front of him, giving him a cursory glance. Dressed in drab colours, they sported army-fatigue outfits fashioned in revealing styles — leaving very little to the imagination.

A sort of army-grunge fashion statement, but with their mid-riffs showing — tits on display and perfectly positioned rips in their cargo pants designed to show the maximum amount of skin. The complete lack of functionality was apparently solved through the use of bulky trench coats.

Pathetic.

They tittered and cackled loudly, and Bleak had to restrain himself from telling them to fuck off. He wasn't in the mood.

They loitered beside him and he scowled, silently willing them to go away.

Don't sit down. Move. Shove off.

They dropped down to the ground beside him and Bleak cringed. Their voices grated on him and he swore under his breath, grinding his teeth and glaring ahead. Bleak had never possessed the ability to tolerate idiots well.

Glancing around, he took in the tense atmosphere. There was a nervous energy amongst the people here. Some were pacing, others were standing around and talking; eyes darting back and forth in anticipation. Around thirty individuals were currently packed into the small common room, awaiting further instructions.

Waiting for the signal to leave.

Bleak was apprehensive. The Barbara Blight he knew was nuttier than a fruit cake. This Future Blight sounded downright terrifying and the idea of rocking up on her doorstep didn't exactly sound very appealing. He knew of at least two people Blight had murdered in cold blood during this future timeline — Plunder, along with Blondie's future self.

Speaking of Blondie, he spotted her across the room; sitting with a freckle-faced brunette on the sofa. She was staring off into space, a faraway look on her face while her new friend talked quietly in her ear about something.

A complete contradiction to the morons carrying on beside him, the Wind Planeteer looked relaxed and a great deal more classy — dressed modestly in a black cable-knit sweater and denim jeans. Her blonde hair was loose, tumbling over her shoulders. The scars and cuts were fading and her face no longer reflected the pale, deer-in-the-headlights look.

He pushed himself off the floor and left the shrieking gaggle of ducks beside him, heading towards his time-travelling partner.

"Shove over," he muttered upon reaching her, hitching his thumb to the right.

She looked up in surprise, distracted from whatever thoughts she was mulling over. "Mudak," she muttered under her breath, but she moved closer towards her friend all the same.

He dropped into the seat beside her with a huff, nodding towards the trio of hair-brained women he'd left behind. "Did IQ's drop sharply over the past eleven years?"

"Nah, they're airheads by nature," the other girl said. She extended her hand towards Bleak. "I don't think we've met. I'm Grace."

Bleak ignored her. "We really fucking doin' this?"

"Da," Linka replied, wincing as she gave Grace an apologetic smile. "Don't mind Bleak. Manners are not in his vocabulary."

"When are we leavin'?"

"Within the hour. Are you packed?"

He have her an incredulous stare. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?"

"What?"

"I brought the clothes on my back through the portal. So did you. What the hell would you —"

"Maybe if you were a decent human being Bleak — you know, nice to people — you would have more possessions than you started out with."

"Does stealing count?"

"Nyet."

"Yeah, whatever." Bleak folded his arms. "This is a bad idea. It's what Blight wants."

"We have no choice," Linka murmured. She regarded him, her green eyes narrowed and Bleak squared his shoulders. Uncomfortable about being under such close scrutiny. "You are not scared, are you Bleak?"

"Fuck off," he muttered. "I've just heard some horror stories about how Blight deals with intruders. Not particularly looking forward to ringin' her doorbell."

"What have you heard?" Linka asked, seemingly curious.

Bleak ran a hand over his head as he recalled a conversation he'd had with an old-timer back at the Metro system. "Crazy bitch has been experimenting on people. Choppin' off limbs. Stringin' bodies up on telegraph poles and road signs as a warning. Completely lost her mind."

"Rumours, I am sure," Linka said but his words had obviously unsettled her. She looked down, clasping her hands in her lap and swallowing nervously.

"Don't think so," Bleak replied. "Word is that some of the weirdos on the streets at night are collecting people for her."

Linka shifted, clearly unsettled. "I do not think —"

"Oh, come on," he snapped. "She killed Plunder by throwing him under a bus and that was several years ago. She's had all this time to refine her skills. We don't even know how you died. For all you know —"

"I was poisoned."

Bleak paused, his mouth dropping open at the revelation. "What?"

"I was poisoned," she said quietly. "Blight murdered me in front of my children."

"Poisoned?" Bleak gaped at her. "Wait, did you say children?"

She nodded — that faraway look passing over her features again. A hint of a smile playing on her lips and her cheeks were pink.

"When did you find this out?"

"Just last night," she answered. She gestured towards a folder lying discarded by the wall. Purple in colour with lots of overlapping papers sticking out from within the pages. "Found out a few things."

"I thought they didn't know how you died?"

"Her husband finally cracked," Grace piped up and Linka elbowed her, shushing her quietly. "What? Is it a secret?"

"Huh?" Bleak snapped his fingers in front of Linka's face to gain her attention and she blinked, recoiling. "Someone gonna fill me in on —"

"Oh, the truth came out last night. Linka was married," Grace teased, pointing her index finger towards the entrance, "to that fine specimen over there."

He followed her lead, craning his neck and spotting Pyro sitting close to the doorway, eyeing Bleak with a mixture of disdain and suspicion.

Bleak glanced back at Linka, perplexed. She now wore a bashful grin and he watched her tuck her hair behind ears that were rapidly turning red.

Ah, fuckin' hell.

"You gotta be kiddin' me," he moaned, staring at Linka incredulously. "No way."

"Yep," Grace confirmed. "Lost her temper, gained a husband."

"I did not lose my temper," Linka muttered. "I simply —"

"Admit it. You went nuts," Grace said, grinning. "It was awesome… what I saw of it, anyway."

"It was not common knowledge," Linka hissed. "I do not think he wants people to —"

"You and Red?" Bleak shook his head. "So much for lil miss nyet, zere is noz-ing between us."

Linka shrugged, munching on a piece of freshly-made bread and looking nauseatingly content with the way things had turned out.

"Jesus," Bleak lamented. "You were just startin' to get interesting, ya know that?"

"Happy to disappoint you, Bleak," she replied airily.

Bleak's stomach rumbled as he watched her finish nibbling on the rest of the bread. "So why the fuck is he still ignoring you?"

"He is not ignoring me," she said softly. "I said I would give him time and I intend to do so."

"Ugh," he muttered. "Morons."

Linka paid him no attention. She turned to Grace, a question forming on her lips. "Does Gi know that I know? I have not seen her since we returned to —"

Grace shrugged. "Dunno. Didn't come back to our room last night. She should be here by now."

Bleak watched as Linka bit her lip, deep in thought but her reply was drowned out by a loud whistle. The trio turned, startled as they watched Kwame hurry into the room, followed closely by Tyreece.

"All right people, we're not waiting any longer. Listen up…"

The rest of the crowd filed out of the common room, heading towards the manhole exit with their bags and supplies. Linka remained in her seat next to Bleak, who sat with an impassive, stony look on his face. Ma-Ti and Wheeler were by the door and Kwame was perched on the counter top.

"Where is Gi?" Kwame asked, peering towards the doorway as if expecting her to arrive at any moment.

"No idea," Ma-Ti said. "She and Tom got into the vodka last night, apparently."

"God." Kwame rolled his eyes, seemingly unhappy but he quickly moved past it. "Rings?"

"Yep."

"All right," he said. He leaned forward. "Is everyone all right with the decision to travel in three groups?"

"Makes sense," Wheeler replied. "Go together in a group this large, we may as well have a target on our backs."

Kwame nodded. "At the end of the day, Blight needs Linka to transfer her element back to Cap, but once he's back in the earth she'll need to locate the rest of us anyway to combine our powers. If we encounter trouble along the way, I want to make that job as hard as possible. If we split up, we'll be harder to find."

Linka nodded. "Who is going with who?"

Kwame sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I have two teams heading straight to Nevada — to Blight's compound. Ma-Ti will go with the first team. Gi and Bleak with the second —"

"I'm not losin' sight of this one," Bleak interrupted, gesturing towards Linka and clearly unhappy with this course of action. "How do I know you wont —"

"You have to go through the portal regardless, Bleak," Kwame reminded him. "If you remain here, this time line wont survive. We cannot afford not to send you through."

Bleak blew a frustrated breath outwards. "Then why are two teams heading to Nevada? What happened to finding the Blue guy?"

"That will be the third team's responsibility. Linka, Wheeler and I will head out with the third team and find Cap. We will then rendezvous with you in Nevada."

"And what if Blight captures you all?"

"We have not physically seen Blight during all this time. Our Linka would have been the last to see her in person… unfortunately" He gave her a tight smile. "Blight uses others to do her dirty work. We believe Cap is here in LA, but our sources tell us Blight herself has already moved out to Nevada. She knows we have no choice but to seek out the time travel equipment. I think the real showdown will happen there."

"Do we know where to go?" Ma-Ti asked. "I do not wish to be wandering lost around the desert."

"Linka has been there. She has given our group leaders the compound's rough location on a map."

"Seems legit," Wheeler muttered. "I gotta call home before we leave. May not get another opportunity."

He straightened and headed for the door before pausing. Hovering, suddenly uncertain. He turned and beckoned towards Linka. "You comin'?"

She was up and on her feet before he'd even finished the sentence, eager to hear their little voices now that she knew the truth. They headed for the door and nearly bumped into Gi as she tore inside the room, out of breath and looking dishevelled. She held out her hand; bent over and regaining her composure.

"Thought you'd… sorry… slept in," she puffed, placing her hands on her knees in an effort to regulate her breathing.

"Nice of you to join us," Kwame muttered. "Ten minutes, people."

Linka gave her a backwards glance as she followed Wheeler into the corridor. Gi stared at them with wide eyes as they left, evidently surprised to see them together. A slight pause, then Gi's voice was sharp and clear as it echoed behind their retreating figures.

"What's my photo album doing here?"